The Fey

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by Claudia Hall Christian

CHAPTER FIVE

  Two hours later

  February 9—12:05 A.M.

  Lower Downtown Denver, Colorado

  “This has not been my favorite day,” Alex said.

  They were standing in the hallway of Erin’s loft. She looked down the grim line of men finishing with Trece and the White Boy. Inside the loft, they could hear Marcos screaming. They were waiting for Colin.

  Homeland Security kept Marcos under surveillance all day. According to heat imaging, he and Erin had been arguing most of the evening. Homeland Security suggested that they wait until things cooled down a little bit. No one wanted to see Senator Hargreaves’s youngest daughter on the cover of the Denver Post. The plan was to pick up Marcos in the quiet of two in the morning. Alex and Raz would attend but not participate.

  But the couple continued to argue.

  Alex was diagramming the shooting for Fort Carson Military Police when Raz called with the news. Marcos Ruiz was beating her sister. They flew as a team to the loft, landing on the roof of a nearby building. Max and John were waiting in the hallway when they arrived.

  Marcos had changed the locks when he moved into Erin’s loft. Somehow, Erin managed to slip Colin a key. Colin’s blonde hair stood straight up, and his face was marked with fury. He soundlessly moved down the hall to them. Two Homeland Security teams waited in the wings to take over when Erin was safe.

  “Ready?” she asked.

  The men nodded. They were tasked with subduing Marcos and retrieving Erin.

  “Come up,” John said.

  She jumped into his arms. He held her with his arms around her hips. She wrapped her legs around his waist, hooking her feet together to hold her in place. Slipping her arms around his neck, she kissed him. Colin flipped open the door.

  Alex and John crashed into the apartment. John set Alex down against a wall and lifted her arms above her head. He moved to pull her tank top off and she moaned. She caught his lips with her mouth. They consumed each other with palpable heat.

  “What the hell is this?” Marcos yelled.

  Ignoring him, they continued kissing. John popped open her pants.

  Marcos stomped toward them. He pushed John off Alex. John’s eyes stayed focused on Alex. With deliberate hesitation, he turned to Marcos.

  “How embarrassing,” John said in a thick accent. “We were drinking in the bar downstairs when Alex remembered that Erin had moved in with you. You know how it is sometimes . . .”

  “You fucking whore. I knew you were with this guy, too. Get the fuck out of my house.”

  Marcos put his hand on Alex’s shoulder to push her out the door. She threw him over her shoulder. He landed in a thud on his back. Alex moved into the apartment. Hearing Marcos move to his feet, she turned to punch him. But John had already done the honor. Marcos was on his knees, rubbing his jaw.

  “Erin?”

  “I’m in here,” Erin called from the bedroom area.

  Alex let out a low whistle. Colin and Max moved to stand next to John.

  “Your work?” Colin laughed at John.

  Threading her way through broken furniture and glass, Alex heard Max tell Marcos that he needed to stay where he was. There was scuffling in the hall, but Alex was too taken aback by Erin’s appearance to care about what was happening anywhere else.

  Erin sat on the bed in her panties. Her torso, arms, and legs were covered with new and aging bruises. Alex gasped when Erin turned to look at her. Her nose was broken, her eyes blackened, her lips were swollen, and at least one tooth was broken. Her beautiful green eyes pled with Alex for understanding. Erin tried to stand. Dropping back to the bed, she returned to staring in front of her.

  “Get dressed,” Alex said.

  “I . . . He’ll . . .” Erin said.

  “I’ll find you some clothes. Get dressed,” Alex said.

  Alex kept her voice and manner stern. Any empathy would cause Erin to break down. She had to get Erin out of this loft. Alex found sweat pants in a pile of broken furniture and clothing on the floor. She helped Erin put them on and then found a T-shirt.

  “Can you stand?”

  “He’ll kill me,” Erin said.

  “Not today,” Alex said. She whistled twice and held Erin upright.

  “What the fuck is he doing here?” Marcos yelled from the entryway.

  Matthew scooped Erin into an embrace that lifted her off the ground. Pulling back, he searched her eyes.

  “Oh, God, Erin,” he whispered. Erin’s thin control over her emotions dissolved, and she wept into his shoulder. Alex put her hand on Erin’s back. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Erin pulled back from Matthew for a moment. Their eyes held, and she nodded. Matthew lifted her into his arms. As they turned the corner, Marcos screamed and lunged for them. Colin blocked Marcos’s movement, and Max let loose a swift punch to his throat. Wheezing, Marcos dropped to his knees. Matthew stepped over Marcos and carried Erin out of the apartment.

  “Hi, scumbag,” Troy said, walking into the apartment. “I’m Troy. This is Trece and this is the White Boy. We’re here to subdue you.”

  The White Boy closed the door.

  FFF

  Six hours later

  February 9—6:34 A.M.

  St. Joseph’s Hospital, Denver, Colorado

  Alex sat in a chair near the wall of the Intensive Care Unit.

  Matthew had carried Erin to the car before he realized she was in serious trouble. Somehow, he made it to the emergency room before her spleen ruptured. The doctors hoped that a series of medications would reduce her swelling, but, according to John, Erin needed surgery today.

  Erin had been in this emergency room before. Her file was thick with two years of broken bones, bumps, and bruises. The social worker confided to Alex that she had begged Erin to get help but that Erin was terrified of Marcos—so terrified that Marcos was listed as her medical power of attorney.

  Since Marcos was currently detained elsewhere, they were waiting for Erin to awaken to make decisions.

  Erin’s nose and cheekbone were broken. Her jaw was cracked. Her liver had lacerations. Her spleen was . . . Alex couldn’t keep the list in her head without wishing she had put a bullet into Marcos’ brain.

  Nodding to herself, she was a little relieved that the Military Police had taken her handgun. They would keep her gun until they finished their inquiry into last night’s shooting. If Colonel Howard hadn’t intervened, she would still be at Fort Carson.

  Marcos would have killed her sister.

  Less than ten minutes into their interaction with Marcos, Matthew called from the emergency room, begging Alex to come. She had to turn Marcos over to Homeland Security before any real justice was served. But Marcos was on his way to Guantanamo Bay, where Fey-friendly US Army soldiers guarded the nasties. Alex smiled at the thought.

  With a gasp and a scream, Erin rose from the bed. Alex jumped from her seat, and Matthew held Erin in his arms. The nurse came to check Erin’s vitals. Matthew, kneeling down so his face was inches from hers, held Erin’s eyes while the nurse worked. They whispered back and forth. Alex sat down on the other side of the bed when the nurse had finished.

  “Hi,” Alex said.

  “Oh, Alex. I’m so sorry. I had no idea that he . . .”

  “Shh,” Alex said. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re safe. John will be here in a minute to talk to you about your options.”

  “Before . . . I mean . . . ,” Erin pressed her hand against her heart. She looked at Matthew and then at Alex. “I have to know . . .”

  “Erin, we can talk about this when you’re feeling better,” Matthew said.

  “I have to know.”

  “Know what?” Alex asked. She looked at Matthew, who was shaking his head. “Erin, what do you need to know?”

  “I need to know about you and Matt.”

  “What about me and Matt?” Alex asked.

  “She thinks we’re lovers because I was with you when
you were injured. It’s why we broke up . . . what we argued about at lunch.”

  “You broke up because Matthew stayed with me when I was unconscious?” Alex shook her head at the idea.

  “He comes from God knows where, filthy, AWOL, to sleep in your bed, then tells me that you aren’t lovers. I . . . It’s crazy, but I have to know. I just need the truth. I need something to count on . . . something real.”

  Erin wept into her hands. When Matthew tried to comfort her, she shook him off.

  Alex closed her eyes and sighed. Opening her eyes, she caught Matthew’s eyes. He nodded slightly.

  “OK, OK, Erin, it’s okay,” Alex said.

  “You won’t tell me.” Erin’s emotions rose into hysteria. “Even now, you won’t tell me.”

  “I don’t tell you because knowing will hurt you,” Alex said.

  “Because you are lovers . . . That’s it. Isn’t it? No matter how much I love Matt, no matter how much John loves you, Alex, you and Matt come first.”

  “Erin,” Alex said, “we will tell you, but you must calm down. Your body is broken, and you’re making it worse.”

  Alex looked up when John walked into the area.

  “Erin wants to know about Matt and me,” Alex said.

  “Erin, you don’t want to know,” John said.

  “So it’s all right with you that they are lovers?”

  “It looks like that, but . . .”

  “It’s all right, John,” Matthew said. He pulled his jacket off. “Erin, I’d do anything for you and anything to protect you. I’d even lose you to protect you. If you must know, and knowing will help you . . .”

  “I’ll start,” Alex said. “Erin, you met Mattie just before he left for Afghanistan.”

  “Show her the marks,” John said. Alex nodded.

  “You know that no one wanted me to be a Green Beret. I had to be better than everyone else.”

  “Alex was the best student in the history of Special Forces,” Matthew said. “A lot better than me.”

  “Anyway, the last part of training is called S.E.R.E. The training is designed to teach you about torture.”

  “They torture the soldiers so that they will know how to handle it. Sometimes, they push well past the breaking point,” John said. He pulled up Alex’s sleeve to show the scars on her wrists. “She has these marks on her wrists and ankles.”

  “I was in the hospital for a week after we were done,” Alex said. “It was their last chance to deny my Special Forces tab. They were brutal. But I was ready. You remember Dad and I practiced when I was in high school. Matthew and Jesse . . . They went after them because they were my friends. I had to watch.”

  John lifted Alex’s shirt to show a series of deep scars on her back. “Matt,” he said.

  Matthew pulled the back of his shirt up around his neck, showing the same scarring.

  “We were friends,” Matthew said ,wagging his head. “You know—buddies, sparring partners, whatever, until they locked us in that cold room. Your sister saved me . . . and then . . .”

  “Show her,” Alex said.

  Matthew pointed to a black Vivaldi “F”, and then another in the armband tattoo on his right arm.

  “He’s branded with your mark!”

  “It means . . .” John started. Alex put a hand on his arm to stop him from finishing.

  “I’ll do it,” Alex said. “Matthew has been held hostage twice. I extracted him about six years ago and then again a couple of months . . .”

  “Seven,” Matthew said.

  “Seven months before I was shot.”

  “What are you saying?” Erin’s hands flew to her face in horror. “You were a hostage?”

  “The last time was bad, Erin, really bad. Mattie wasn’t . . .”

  “Sane. I lost it.”

  “The CIA put everyone in this super-secret hospital in Costa Rica. Jesse and I went with the guys. There were six of them.”

  “I couldn’t sleep,” Matthew said. He pulled his shirt down and looked at the wall. “Fuck.”

  “Jesse stayed with him during the day, and I stayed with him at night. At first I sat in a chair, but, in the dark, his mind . . . went. I started sleeping with him in his bed. Just having me there was enough; he could sleep . . . recover. We’d slept next to each other during most of training. It wasn’t much different.”

  “Erin, your sister saved my life three times, and then she saved my mind. When I found out she was injured, I had to be there, right there, with her. You have to believe that I’ve never been Alex’s lover. Even before they were married, before I knew you, we weren’t lovers. But you’re right. We are a lot closer than friends.”

  “Does that help?” Alex asked.

  “I don’t know what’s real . . . Everything is upside down. I . . .”

  “How can we help?”

  “Marcos told me that . . .” Erin wept into her hands. “I . . . Oh, God . . .”

  Matthew lifted her from the bed to his lap and into his arms, “Shh . . . Shh . . . This is what it was like for me. Just what you’re going through.” He rocked her gently. Petite Erin sobbed into his chest.

  “I’m sorry, Erin, but we have to make some decisions,” Alex said. “Matthew has to get back to base. He wanted to be here to help you decide.”

  Erin nodded. Sticking her bruised chin out, she shifted her shoulders back to bravely deal with the issues at hand. Her eyes casually shifted to Matthew, and she softened. He winked at her, and they entwined hands.

  “What should I do, John?” Erin asked.

  “We need to operate on your spleen and check your liver. We’ve arranged for a plastic surgeon to fix your nose, cheekbone, and jaw this afternoon. Then we’d like to move you to our home since we’re set up for injured people. We can take you to your appointments and make sure you get the care you need. We think you’ll recover there faster than in the hospital or alone. Plus, it’s easier for Matthew to get away to see the Major than to come see you.”

  “What major?” Erin asked.

  “Me. I’m a Major,” Alex said. “What about Mom? Would you like . . . uh . . . Colin to call her?”

  Erin smiled at Alex’s joke. “When I’m settled. You’re sure about me . . .”

  “Of course,” Alex said. “It will be fun to have you around.”

  “Will you stay with me during the operations, John?” Erin asked. “I know you have to work, but . . . I’d feel a lot better if you were there.”

  “Of course,” John said. “It’s already arranged. If you’re ready, we can start straight away.”

  “Can I . . .” Erin looked at Matthew.

  Alex bent to kiss her cheek.

  “We’ll see you when you wake up,” she said. “Come on, doc.”

  Holding hands, she and John walked out into the hall. John wrapped her in his arms.

  “You’re filthy,” he said.

  “Rolling around in the dirt,” she said. She kissed him. “I killed someone last night in the simulation. God, John . . .”

  “You need to get some surgery yourself,” he said.

  “But not today,” she said. “Today, I want to cry my eyes out.”

  “Good plan. She’ll be out for the rest of the day. Just come back around five.”

  “I have to take Mattie back to the Fort, and the MPs want to see me. I don’t know how long that will take.”

  “After you see Jesse,” John said.

  Alex held John’s eyes for a moment and looked down.

  “It’s all right, love. Hey,” he pushed her chin up so he could look into her eyes. “I miss him, too.”

  “Wanna make out?” she asked raising an eyebrow.

  “I want more than that.” He pressed her against him so that she could feel his rising interest.

  She laughed.

  “Here they come,” John said. He nodded in the direction of the anesthesiologist.

  With a quick kiss,
he went to make the introductions. Alex was waiting in the hallway when Matthew came out of the ICU. Holding hands, they walked to her Jeep.

  F

 

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